Elevensies
by Aleithria
Summary: My collection of drabbles and challenges! Come in and see what Merlin and Arthur do in between those saving the world sort of times!
1. The Hunt

Yes yes! Now it's my turn to start a drabble- series. Lol. I think it will be good for me as a writer to answer some challenges so I am going with the Heart of Camelot's writing challenges. :) I hope you like them!

**Challenge**: An Interesting Use for a Scarf  
**Category**: Gen (canon AU)  
**Characters/Pairings**: Merlin, Arthur  
**Rating/Warnings**: K  
**Word Count**: 296

* * *

It had become a rather common task and -oddly enough- one that Merlin didn't find himself loathing. He hated hunting, sure. But for some reason training Arthur's dogs to hunt was somewhat enjoyable. Cariad and Llywelya were a few of the finest examples of their breed with lithe legs, white necks, and classic white-tipped tails.

Merlin sat huddled back against the cold stone of the palace, looking up at the towering structure above him. The alcove was a nice cool reprieve from the hot sun of summer, and he shivered as the back of his bare neck brushed the stone. He stayed for several minutes, which seemed much longer in the absence of having anything to do. Just as he thought his feet would fall completely to sleep he heard the distinct baying of the fox hounds.

The large animals shot around the corner and tackled him to the ground, Llywelya attacking his face instantly with her tongue. After fighting to his feet, he saw Arthur jogging to a halt, a bright smile on his face.

"Fastest yet," said the king happily. Cariad pranced over to the king, and Merlin couldn't help but notice a bit of faded red cloth dangling from his mouth.

Now having no access to the servant's face, Llywelya dashed to her brother's side, clenching her teeth over the small bit of cloth and yanking on it with a growl. The two began tugging back and forth, grumbling playfully and their tails whipping back and forth like white flags.

"That... that's mine!" cried Merlin, suddenly looking to Arthur. "You're supposed to scent them with it, not _give_ it to them!" Arthur merely shrugged. Merlin took off after the dogs, but the king knew they wouldn't soon give it up.


	2. The Necklace

Second challenge! This one was difficult. The idea was to take a character that you dislike and write them from a sympathetic point of view. Whew... I rewrote this probably three times. XD

**Challenge**: A Different Perspective  
**Category**: Gen (canon AU)  
**Characters/ Pairings**: Agravaine, Uther  
**Rating/ Warnings**: K+  
**Word Count**: 269

* * *

Agravaine slowly entered the king's bedchambers, wringing his thick hands and hoping he would enter and be alone. The anger that began to creep onto his face at the sight of Uther had to be immediately controlled and repressed as he found Guinevere tending to him. He threw out a hasty excuse and the servant swept past him. He had to hurry, for she would be back. He came to a stop at Uther's bedside and wrung the thin chain in his hands.

How many years had he been forced to look upon the King's scarred face only to have Ygraine's haunt his dreams? How many times had he watched a match between knights and pictured Tristan's broken body beneath the king's sword?

His heart clenched at the thoughts of them. His breath caught in his throat as he approached the dying king. For years his rage for this horrendous excuse of a man had nearly consumed him. His brother and sister would visit his dreams, screaming for help; begging for some act of vengeance. At first, he thought to resist. Uther was far too protected. But then he would remember again and again why inaction would only drive him mad.

The excitement of becoming an uncle had been overturned by the pain of loss. And it wasn't long before he was cradling his brother's lifeless body in a pool of red at the king's feet. Agravaine's broken family would not be washed away by the violence of the purge. He roughly slid the necklace over Uther's head.

"Finally, you will get all that you deserve, old friend."


	3. The Prisoner

The challenge here was to write a fic about a character who finds themselves imprisoned. I took the metaphorical route. :)

**Challenge**: The Chains that Bind Us  
**Category**: Gen (canon AU)  
**Characters/Pairings**: Agravaine, Uther  
**Rating/Warnings**: K+  
**Word Count**: 362  
**Notes**: Thanks to Ryne for helping me condense!

* * *

In the wee hours of the morning, a single servant knelt beside the faintly glowing coals of the funeral pyre in the abandoned field. A knight's sword had been thrust into the ground, standing as a silent vigil for its former owner. He picked at a few pieces of grass.

"I'm sorry," he muttered after a long silence, staring at the sword as though it were a person he was speaking to. Tears spilled down his cheeks and his eyes fell to the ground in shame. "I'm so sorry, Lancelot."

The soft smile on Lancelot's face as he stepped into the foggy veil stuck in his mind. A decision he had come to on his own, right?

Perhaps it wasn't.

Perhaps he was simply another victim of Merlin's thoughtless destiny. The destiny spelled out in the prophecies had become no less than a wicked haze hanging over his life. It was a taskmaster whose cruelty possibly surpassed even Morgana's. Merlin was well aware of what it required of him, and in many ways he was happy to oblige, chained as he was to this unfeeling master.

But every time his secret was threatened or his mind turned to thoughts of leaving, his master would stretch out its hand and death and misery would follow.

Freya jumped instantly to his mind. His love had been powerful and his desire for freedom had overwhelmed him. Not even a day after his decision had been made, she lay dead in his arms.

He could still remember the weight of his father's body as the life ebbed from him. The very thought of Merlin returning to Ealdor seemed to have frightened Destiny enough to send its wrath down upon Balinor.

Even in Arthur's kindness when his mother had been in danger, Destiny still emerged victorious. Arthur had helped repel the bandits, and thus Merlin was spared having to return home to care for his mother. Perhaps it had ulterior motives in sending Arthur to help him. The trip had also killed one who knew Merlin's secret.

Staring at the sword, never before had Merlin felt less like his own person.

He was Destiny's prisoner.


End file.
